Doubled Edged Hope
by deaths demise
Summary: Set in D3. AU for later events. Riley beats Adam up, he's had enough and decides to leave. The Ducks all hate him. Life with Varsity is a nightmare, slowly destroying him. Life has lost all meaning to him. What will he do? Will anyone be there for him?
1. Chapter 1

Hiya! This is set during D3 and is AU in regards to a lot of the events.

Summary: Adam makes Varsity, Ducks abandon him, Rick Riley beats him up, and Adam runs off. Where does he run to? What does he intend to do? Will someone be there for him? If so who? What happens in the end?

Warning: Mild language. Beatings. Suicidal theme and thoughts. Depression.

Please Read and Review!

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"You little punk! How dare you disobey me!"

With each word he followed it with a sharp punch or kick; whichever could reach my beaten collapsed body the easiest. I'd long since given up trying to defend or protect myself. Hell I didn't even bother speaking now. I just let it happen.

"You little shit are you listening to me!" Strong beefy hands roughly grabbed me, by my bruised shoulders and hauled me to my feet.

I felt my legs buckle just as I was slammed harshly into the lockers. A hiss of pain escaped my chapped lips.

A strong hand - different to the ones which hauled me up - held me in place, forcing my battered body to stand. The other hand came and harshly grasped my chin forcing my head upwards. Blearily I opened my eyes to stare into the sneering face of my abuser. My abuser; my teammate; my captain; Rick Riley.

"Listen to me, cos I ain't gonna say this again." His grip on me tightens sending new waves of nausea and pain coursing through my body.

"You do as I say from now on, your body belongs to me, belongs to this team. You're ours. Got it Banksie? There are no Ducks here to help you." Laughter from my left, Cole no doubt, he takes almost as much pleasure in my pain as Riley does dishing it out. Looking at Rick's face I see amusement.

'Oh well so long as my suffering amuses him', I think but don't dare to speak aloud for fear of what he'd do. I have no illusions about just how far he'd go; I found that out after the Ducks pranked us with the ants. I still have the wounds from it.

I'm roughly slammed into the lockers again, seems he noticed my attention had wandered.

"Yeah you're all mine Banksie and you better shape up, cos the Ducks, well they don't want you anymore, they don't care about you and one word from me and Wilson will drop you in an instant, so get this through your little fucking head." His grip on my chin tightens as he leans in close, so close I can smell the onions he had with his lunch. Chocking back a sob and trying not to let my tears fall, I stare into his eyes. "You mine Pet." At the last word he spat in my face; I make no move to try to wipe it off no matter how much it repulses me.

Stepping back, he pulls his hand back and punches me once more right in the face. I fall to the floor. One hand holding my face; I taste blood in my mouth; he split my lip.

I hear the door bang shut and realise that I'm alone.

Shaking, I force my body into a sitting position despite the pain and gently rest against the bottom of the lockers. Trembling I place my elbows on my bent knees and bury my face in my dirty palms as I finally let go. I don't know how long I stay there crying my eyes out and trembling all over.

I only come to my senses when I hear Coach Wilson leaving his office for the night.

'Bastard' is the only thing running though my mind. He must have been there the entire time. He would have been able to hear what Riley was doing in here. He should have come in and stopped it. If I were anyone else he would have done something. No, not if it were still Riley doing the beating, he wouldn't do anything that would jeopardise his players. It barely registers in my mind that I'm one of his players too, because in reality I'm not. I'm not anything anymore.

Riley's right; since I made Varsity; the Ducks don't want anything to do with me. They think I've gone Varsity on them, that I want to be here, that I'm one of them; a stuck-up rich boy bully. Riley's made sure that they think that. Even when I tried to tell them, they just blew me off, how easily they threw me away, thought the worse of me, its like we hadn't even known each other for four years and played together as teammates.

These days the word teammate seems to have lost all meaning.

Hissing in agony, I gingerly lever myself upwards, using the lockers for support. I make my way slowly to the showers which I turn on and step under the luke-warm spray. I don't bother with soap or shampoo; all I do is stand or lean gingerly into the spray and let all the dirt and grime wash away, down the drain.

I need to feel clean. I want to but no matter what I do; I can't. More tears leak out of my puffy red eyes as I try to hold back another sob. Clean. God I miss that feeling, I haven't felt clean since the day I made Varsity.

Trudging out of the water, I hastily shove clean clothes onto my wet body, not bothering to dry myself or look at my body in the mirror. As I jerkily shove my coat on and fumble with the zip, I decide its time to check the condition of my face in the mirror. All I need to do is make sure there's no blood on it and try to minimise the bruised look so I won't be stopped by any concerned Samaritan as I leave.

I barely pay any attention to the exhausted, demoralized, sunken appearance of my face, the way my skin is far too pale and my eyes don't hold any spark of signs of life. Beneath them there are purple bags from my lack of sleep. But I pay no heed to any of that.

All I do now is grab a Kleenex and wipe at my mouth, I dab a little antiseptic around the cut which is one the side of my mouth before shutting my locker. I jam a hat on my head and wrap a scarf around my neck pulling it up to cover my lower face. As long as I keep my head down, which I seem to do nowadays anyway, then nobody should notice my face; I'll be fine to leave.

It's nearly curfew anyway so there shouldn't be many people around. Stepping out into the crisp night air I shiver tremendously, the slight breeze feels like a thousand knives piercing through my worn out body. Moving as swiftly as I can manage, with the majority of my upper body a mass of bruises and cuts, I head towards the car park. My head is pounding; I would have taken something, except I've run out of medicine. I reach my car, despite its sleek newness; I despise it. My Father got it me after he heard I made Varsity, I don't think he's ever been so proud of me. Somehow it doesn't make me as happy as I also thought it would, making him proud of me doesn't really seem to matter anymore. I mean he's my Father, he should be proud of me no matter what I do. Shouldn't he?

I sigh loudly as I fumble with my car keys. I can't seem to focus properly. I definitely should not be thinking of driving in this state but I can't face going back to the dorms and I cannot go on with this any longer. I need to leave.

The pounding in my head and numbness seeping through my previously burning body must be why I didn't hear them until they were on top of me. The first I knew of their presence was when the all familiar insult was shouted out of Goldberg's cheery voice.

"Hey Cake-eater what you doing out here? Where are all ya' Varsity buddies huh?"

Looking up I see I am faced with not only Goldberg but his ever present side-kick Averman whose grinning widely and high-fiving Russ about Goldberg's comment.

Speaking of Russ he opens his own mouth, unable to resist having a jab at me. "Yeah they get bored of you already traitor?" Now there all laughing, Julie and Charlie joining in as they bring up the rear. I guess Captain Duck has decided to return then. Oh joy. Not!

There all laughing now, jeering at me, oblivious to my pain.

I want to scream at them, to yell at them, make them see that I never betrayed them, that they betrayed me, that I had nothing to do with all this, and that all I want is out, out of all of it. That I thought they were my friends and that I wish we still were. But as I watch them I'm beginning to doubt that we ever were friends.

Ignoring them I open my door and begin to ease myself in trying my hardest to prevent a gasp of pain escape my lips.

Oblivious to my discomfort and jerky pain-shod movement I hear them, they're speaking about how unfair it is that I'm leaving campus when it's almost curfew, how it's just typical for a spoilt rich kid like me.

Julie calls out to me as I start the engine. "This is just typical of you, you know that."

She flips me off as I reverse out, almost hitting them in my haste. I gun the engine and speed off, away from them, away from this place, away from my own personal hell. In the rear-view mirror I see them all flipping me off and waving their hands in the air angrily. Except for Charlie, who'd remained oddly silent throughout it all, for a brief moment I think I spot concern on his face before I'm too far away to see them anyway.

Before too long I've come to a stop. Eden Hall, Varsity and the Ducks are far behind me now; I'm back in mine and most of the Ducks home-town. But I'm not in my neighbourhood or anywhere near my house. I can't go there; Dad will demand I return to school or worse want to talk about Varsity and my future hockey career. I don't even want to play anymore. The sports lost all appeal to me. All it does now is cause a whole to appear in my heart. My heart has been torn up and shredded into bits in a matter of weeks. I don't think it's possible to repair it, but it can certainly be broken worse and will be if I stay.

Instead I've come to the lake where I and the original Ducks used to play and muck about. We didn't stick to the actual rules we just came here and hung out, had a laugh, fooled around. They would come here far more often than me, since this is in their neighbourhood more and it was hard for me to convince my Father to let me come. Even after the Hawks injured me in the championships, he still preferred them over the Ducks and tried his best to keep me away from the Ducks even though the Hawks made it clear they hated my guts.

I get out and walk to this bench that I know has two sets of initials carved into it. A small smile graces my lips as I come upon the bench and see the carvings. Despite everything that's happened I still believe the truth of this:

JH + AB MATES 4EVA

"Jesse Hall and Adam Banks mates forever." My voice is raw and my throat chokes up over this simple gesture of friendship.

Not for the first time I find myself wondering if Jesse meant this, he carved it not long after the Pee-Wee Championships, after my release from the hospital. It was my third time down here to hang out with the Ducks, the rest reduced to fighting and squabbling as was normal for them. I still felt like an outsider and found myself sitting on this bench, kind of like I am now and Jesse came over to me. We talked for a while, kidded around and then he carved this. I was shocked that he would do such a thing but at the same time immensely pleased with it, with such a show of friendship.

Sure he and the others had known each other longer but a bond had been formed between the two of us when I went down for the Ducks in the match and afterwards when he came to tell me about the match in the hospital. Sure the others visited but that was only the once and with Bombay.

Jesse, well he came back several other times and even came to my house after I was released. It was Jesse who invited me down here to hang out and Jesse who tried to include me in everything, to make me one of them.

Same thing happened at the Goodwill Games, when I hurt my wrist it was Jesse who hung out with me, who made sure I rested it and kept me company when the others were going on about their upcoming matches and victories. Jesse made sure to include me in their outings and keep me informed of new techniques and drills coach was having them run. He sat beside me in class and helped me change the bandage on my wrist.

Except now I find myself doubting his friendship. When we all got out scholarships to go to Eden Hall, Jesse declined this. We all tried to talk him around but he stood by his decision. He told me; that Eden Hall wasn't for him; that he wouldn't fit in there; and that he couldn't leave his Dad and little brother - Terry. That here is where he was needed and belonged.

I can't help but wonder that if he'd come then maybe things would have been different, that it wouldn't have come down to this, that I'd still have the Ducks for friends. But then again what's to say he wouldn't have turned on me too, I don't think I could have handled that. Its why I haven't spoken to him since I went to Eden Hall, better to leave it as he was a close friend than have him turn on me too.

It's because of Jesse that I'm here right now. Here is where I was happiest; here is my favourite spot in the world. I pull a knife from my pocket; I've had it there for over a week now. In another pocket in a waterproof plastic bag is a letter; a letter which tells all it needs too. There's not much there but then again I haven't got much to say. Funny that, I barely utter a word these days so you'd think I'd be able to write a whole lot more. No such luck. Not that it really matters.

I thought about just leaving, just running away but what good would that do? I've got nothing worth living for so why runaway?

No, tonight I'm leaving; I'm leaving this world behind. Leaving my troubles, my pain and my pitiful excuse of a life behind. There's nothing left for me here and no one will really miss me anyway. They've all left me behind so really this won't affect them, this will be a blessing for them since I'll be out of their lives. As I pull the knife up to my throat I can't help but wonder if anyone of the Ducks will come to my funeral. If they'll even care that I'm dead?

Just as I'm about to pull the knife across my throat, a dark familiar hand darts out and grabs mine wrenching it away from my body. At the same time I hear an even familiar and terrified voice shout out. "Adam, No!"

A hiss of pain escapes me, as my arm is jerked behind me in a firm determined grip. The knife falls from my grasp. Falling to the ground with a dull clink where it lay momentarily forgotten.

Turning to look behind me, I stare directly into worried chocolate brown orbs. Jesse Hall; my old teammate; my friend, at least I hope he still is.

My face crumples as I see him standing here, behind me, out of breath and looking scared out of his wits but also relieved at arriving in time to stop me. Again I feel tears fall out of my eyes as I realise that he's worried for me, that he's relieved I'm okay. I can see the truth in his eyes; Jesse Hall is my friend; he truly cares about me well being.

As I process this, for the first time in a long time I feel hope flood my veins and relief wash through me that this at least wasn't a lie, wasn't false. All thoughts of dying leave me as I realise that one person whose opinion and friendship I valued most truly does care for me. Somehow there was still a bit of brightness in my bleak existence.

I don't know it it's enough or if he'll stay when I explain or if I can manage to tell him but for now his being here was more than enough for me.

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Let me know what you think about this and if perhaps I should continue it.

Not sure but I think this is a bit of a ramble.

But I quite like the angst and depressed attitude of Adams here, it's what I was trying to create.

Drop me Review to let me know what you thought of this!


	2. Chapter 2

Hiya! Okay so I have decided to continue this fic and would like to dedicate this chapter to my two wonderful reviewers because without the two of you I probably wouldn't have continued this fic!

Warnings: Angst. Depression. Suicidal Themes and Attempts. Abuse.

Can see the interaction as Slash if you want to or can read as close friendship.

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Jesse P.O.V:

It was getting late and was now pitch black out. There was an icy wind picking up, one which would go straight though you no matter how many layers you were wearing or how they thick they were. It was going to be a rough cold night.

Not the sort of night to be outside like I currently was. But I had to! I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen like everything around me was going to come crashing down.

I shivered, changing direction and heading into an alley; that I knew was a shortcut to the lake.

Why I was going to an iced over lake on a cold night with a howling icy wind? Instead of in the other direction? Back to my nice, little, if rundown apartment, that I lived in with my father and brother, which would be warm and have hot chocolate?

The answer was simple. It was all because of Charlie fucking Conway! Captain Duck. The idiot. Spazzway.

He and the rest of the Ducks had to go and do the stupidest thing and abandon Adam. And all over as stupid a thing as which team he was on! Of all the idiocy!

Then to top it off they've been hurting Adam, not physically, but pulling pranks on him and verbally assaulting him!

Don't they know anything about Adam; don't they know how sensitive he is?

How because of his father he doesn't know how to speak to people, how he has low self-esteem and worries constantly about his image and performance on the ice since that's the only way to get his father to pay any attention to him? Obviously not! Even after four years together they knew nothing; they never could be bothered to learn about him.

I never did like the way the others treated Adam. It was as though he was still a Hawk or an outsider. They never really made an effort to include him and they always seemed to expect the worse from him; even though they knew he was easily the best skater and the one most dedicated to the sport. That was never enough; they always expected more than any person could possibly give of him. Now, after he makes Varsity because of his skill they go and ditch him! There the only friends he's ever known. He doesn't open up to people easily but he was willing to let them in and they just threw it all away!

Furiously I ram my scarf further up, covering my mouth and nose, breaking into a jog, as the park grows closer. Just beyond that is the lake.

His and Adam's bench was there.

Hopefully I'll find Adam there. God, I hope he's there, I mean where else could he be?

He's left Eden Hall, he isn't at home and this is where he told me he was happiest. I still remember the warmth and happiness radiating off of him when I carved our initials into the bench.

Even if he hates the other Ducks now (which he should, I know I do) and the lake is filled with memories of them, I know he'd still go here because it is where he was at peace. Not all memories here are full of the Ducks. We often came here on our own when I'd finally managed to shake the others for a while and Adam had managed to convince his father to let him come. I resist the urge to roll my eyes as I pick up the pace. I feel as if time is growing short, I ignore my phone buzzing in my pocket, it's after my curfew and with the weather my father must be going berserk with worry right about now. No doubt I'll get a lecture and be grounded when I get home but so long as I get to see Adam, it won't matter.

From the phone call I got it seems pretty urgent that I speak and see Adam as soon as I can.

I wish it were under better circumstances, he must be a mess over what the Ducks have done. I wish he'd called me himself, told me he'd made Varsity, hell, even called to say hi would have been nice.

Since going to Eden Hall I haven't heard from any of my old teammates. Not once.

Yet Portman and I have been keeping in touch and I know that Fulton is talking to him and sending e-mails. But not one of them has been in contact with me. Seems my decision not to go to Eden Hall has ended our friendship; a friendship I've had with most of them since we were still in diapers.

As for Adam, I really thought he understood when I told him I couldn't go to Eden Hall with him and the others and that we would still be friends and stay in touch, even meet up at the weekend and over the holidays. It hurts that he didn't tell me himself what was going on. If I'd known I would have been up there straight to kick Conway, Goldberg and the rest of their arses! Nobody treats my boy like that! Especially not ones who are meant to be his friends and stand by him!

I feel relief flood through me as I near the lake and can see him there on our bench. But it's short-lived. Even from this distance I can see that he's lose weight; his clothes seem to hang off of him; he's slumping; his shoulders are shaking. My god, he's crying, openly and in a public place, even if it's deserted, it's not like him. It's not right. He never leaves himself so open and vulnerable like that.

They've done it; they've destroyed him; they've broken my Adam.

I begin to move forward again; intent on reaching him quickly; enveloping him in hug; letting him know I'm here. It has only been a few weeks; the Ducks can't have done too much damage. Though I know thanks to Adam's father it wouldn't take much but I should be able to undo it.

Oh shit!

Is that a knife glinting between his hands? Damn it! No!

Sprinting the rest of the distance, I can feel my heart beating loudly in my ears and feel a fear like nothing I've ever felt before grip my whole body as I see him raise it to his neck.

"Adam, No!" I scream in the hopes of stopping him.

Once I arrive I don't even pause to think; grabbing his arm sharply; yanking it behind his back; the jolt enough to cause his to drop the knife. I'm aware that my move hurt him far more than it ever should have done. Yes, I'm pretty strong, but there's no way it should have hurt him that much.

About a million questions are buzzing through my mind as I realise just how far gone Adam is. I stare into his tired, defeated blue eyes and see hope spark at my presence. Realising he must have thought the others were still talking to me and that I would side with them; I feel a twinge of anger that he could think so little of our friendship before I let it go.

Looking at him I could plainly see that he wasn't well, frankly he looked like shit. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot; there were black and purple bags under them; his lips were chapped and had dried blood on them; his skin was far too white, to be anywhere near, the usual healthy golden glow of his, obviously he hasn't been eating; his hair was clean, still damp looking. By the looks of it and the feel of his shirt sleeve in my hand he'd had a shower and put the clothes on whilst still wet. He also felt and looked a lot thinner and he can't stop shivering.

Damn it! Just what has been going on? How could no one see this? What the hell is with the Ducks not to see how ill he is? I know they never accepted him but surely even they wouldn't be this cruel and drive him this far? Would they?

I shake my head slightly to try and clear it. I couldn't worry about this right now, I had to make Adam my main priority and concern.

I let his arm go; only to have it come and grasp my forearm in a deadly grip; he may not have been taking care of himself but he still had some spark in him. I feel myself smiling lightly as I grip his forearm in return before reaching for him with my other arm. Quickly I haul him to his feet and pull him to my side, wrapping one arm firmly around his waist and pressing him to my side. I begin walking us to the roadside as fast as possible. He quickly wraps an arm around my back and clutches at my chest with the other; making it hard to walk; more so when he puts his head on my shoulder.

I can tell he needs the reassurance that I'm here and that I still care. I can feel my shoulder becoming damp as he silently cries. My heart aches at this, at what he has been reduced to. My hand tightens its hold on his hip. I can feel the pain my action causes him and I feel another clench of pain and anger in my chest at what torment he's evidently been through.

Another strong gust of wind hits us and as cold as I am he must be freezing and at a high risk of catching a cold or much worse. I toss this thought quickly aside. I can't afford to be distracted and let myself wander like that.

I need to get him inside and warmed up. Fast! Knowing him as I do, the hospital is out. I don't know anyone round here well enough to ask if we can come in and my home was quite a ways off. Damn! We'll just have to run for it.

As I thought of this, I failed to notice the headlights coming up behind us the car slowing down to a stop beside us. I only noticed when I felt Adam stiffen against me and begin trembling out of fear; not out of cold. Pushing him behind me, I hear the drivers' door open, I sigh in relief as I recognise not only the car but the figure getting out of it.

I don't think I've ever felt so relieved in my life to see my father than right at this moment.

Grabbing Adams' hand I rush towards the car, waving my father back inside as I usher Adam into the backseat, climbing in after him. I'd barely shut my door when my father was already speeding off home whilst turning the heater on full blast and all without saying a word. It's at times like these that I realise just how lucky I am to have such an understanding and accepting father.

"Boys, seatbelts, now." My father barked out in his baritone voice.

Not a man to waste words, preferring actions over them any day of the week. No doubt he'll expect a full explanation from me later, he'd get it too, lord knows I need some advice on what to do here and his advice has never steered me wrong before.

Adams' back to having a deathgrip on my arm and seems to be in a catatonic state. It occurs to me since finding him; he hasn't uttered a single word. Not that he's one for talking but still it's not right; he should have said something by now.

Leaning over, I put his seatbelt on for him. Determinedly ignoring the way he stiffens under me and the fear I see in his eyes. The tears have finally stopped but I'd rather them to seeing that he's afraid of what I'll do, almost as if he expects me to hurt him.

'What happened to you?' I think, not for the first time tonight.

Cautiously I lift my hand and cup his face, gently turning it towards mine. I try to convey with my eyes that I'll never hurt him; I think it works as he nods ever so slightly; some of the tension leaving his body. Shifting slightly, I pull him to lean against my side, he still feels far too cold even with the heater on full. I stroke his hair softly and undo his grip on my arm to lace our fingers together instead; stroking his hand with my thumb. Slowly his shuddering subsides and he leans further into me as he closes his eyes.

It was unfortunate that he finally grows comfortable and relaxes when we pull up outside my apartment building and I have to make him move again.

I notice my father's parked as close to the doors as he can and that he's come here instead of going to the hospital. Now he's moving to open the front doors for us.

Keeping my voice quiet, "Hey Adam, come on we're here."

His eyes open blurrily. He blinks several times before moving away slightly. I reached over him to undo the seatbelt and open the door beside him. Quickly I manoeuvred him out and helped him over to the doors. My father nodded as we pass, heading back out to move the car and lock it.

Ushering Adam to the stairs, there's no elevator in the building, least not one that ever works. Luckily we only had to go up two flights, however it was slow going. Seems all of Adams' body was stiff and battered; his strength was all gone. By the time we reach the door to our flat, my father had caught up to us, I ignored the look of deep concern and worry on his face as he opened the door and ushered us both in.

A wave of warmth greats us. I smile at the feeling. I feel Adam lean further into me and can see him smiling softly.

"Jesse, take Adam to the bathroom and put him in the shower, I'll bring you both a change of clothes." My Fathers' voice cuts across my revelling.

Obeying as fast as possible, I finally get Adam into the bathroom. Fortunately it's a small apartment so it's not too fat to walk.

Sitting him down on top of the toilet, I turn to grab towels out of the cupboard and turn the shower on to warm. Fearing anything to hot will send him into shock or something. Turning back to Adam, I'm sad to see he hasn't moved an inch. In fact it doesn't really look like he's even in there. His eyes are back to their deadened look from earlier.

"Adam" I softly speak, reaching out to him.

Any relief I might have felt when his eyes flickered to my face was squashed by the fear that was back in them.

"Oh Adam, what have they done to you?" For the first time I let the worry and horror I feel into my voice. It seems to catch his attention.

I hold myself completely still before him, watching as he slowly raises his hand to my brush against my face lightly. There are tears falling out of the corner of his eyes once more. His chapped lips are trembling faintly.

"My own fault." His voice was so quiet that I only just heard it. I wish I hadn't.

"No, no its not." I whisper back, reaching out to cover his hand with my own.

For a while we just stare into each other's eyes. In the end it's me who breaks contact first. I get up and start to pull off a good chunk of my clothing till I'm only in my boxers.

The soft snick of the door catches my attention and I head over to my father's hand which is visible through the gap. Quickly I grab the clothes off of him, shutting the door behind me. From the other side came my father's voice.

"Hurry up and change boys."

Placing the clothes on the radiator, I move back to Adam and find him staring up at me, trembling slightly.

Pulling him, I remove his jacket, ignoring how damp and thin it is. He doesn't have a scarf or gloves on. I make a note to talk to him about his disregard for his own health. He removes his own shoes; not wearing any socks either I note. When I move to help him remove his shirt he steps away from me. I frown heavily and try again.

"Adam, come on we need to get you cleaned up and into warm clothes." I say trying for a blend of soft but authoritive.

Turning his gaze from mine, he nods shakily and undoes his belt and begins to life his shirt. Helping him out of it, I feel my insides churning.

His skin was black, blue and red. There was dried blood and fresh oozing cuts on his back and his legs looked horrible. On his chest I could see his ribs clearly under the bruising.

Swallowing my supper back down, I move forwards to aid him into the shower. Wishing I could give him some words of reassurance but I couldn't find any.

'How the hell could Conway and the others do this to him! What the fuck!'

Stepping under the showers warm spray, I twizzle the knob turning up the heat. Noticing Adams' still near catatonic state I gently rub soap over his body, ignoring the way he flinches and whimpers as it hits his multitudes of wounds.

There's no way he can avoid seeing a Doctor about this or talking to the cops. This is way too severe. But that can wait until tomorrow.

Steeping out of the shower, I grab the towels and thoroughly dry him, trying not to rub the cuts or be too harsh. Somehow I think I fail if the whimpers are any indication.

Looking in the medicine cabinet I grab a few bottles of antiseptic and creams and begin applying them to his cuts and bruises. Once more I ignore his whimpers and whisper to him soothingly. Before long I'm done and am reassured that nothing is broken or fractured. He's just very very very bruised.

Handing him the clothes he quickly pulls them on himself as I dry myself and shove my own clothes on. I hand him the dressing gown my father kindly added and then shove the slippers towards him. For a moment it looks like he's going to refuse but I shake my head and he caves.

Before I can open the door, his hand whips out and wraps round my wrist; the grip is lax and I could easily break it.

Looking back at Adam I can see that his eyes are still red and I think he would be crying but that he's all cried out by now.

"It wasn't them, they didn't do this."

Instantly I'm angry believing they've scared him into silence. 'Mann Conway's arse is mine!'

"Adam, you don't have to cover for them okay? They don't deserve it and you deserve better."

He's shaking his head frantically. "I know that." He's cries, I realise he's serious, he agrees with me. My confusion remains, evident on my face, so he continues. "It was Riley who did this."

"Who's Riley?" My voice remains soft; this is the most he's said since I found him.

"The Varsity Captain." He quietly admits.

Using the grip he has on my wrist, for the second time, I pull him towards me. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold him as gently as I can. Inside I'm reeling. If it was his new team who've been hurting him, then this is far more fucked up than I thought. Shit!

"How long Adam?" I ask, whispering into his ear softly. I can feel his shaking and pray it's from the fear of remembering, of the trauma he's been through and not form being cold. I gently rub his back slightly, I want to comfort him, to let him know I'm here for him but I terrified that my touch will just hurt him more. He feels so small and fragile in my arms. I'm not exactly the biggest of guys either.

"Pretty much as soon as I joined. It was just words at first but once the Ducks started their pranks, he... he took his anger out on m... me..." By the end he's crying once more, tears stain my shoulder as he clutches to me.

Strengthening my grip on him, I whisper reassurances into his ear. My thoughts are centred on one thing. 'Never again.'

Relaxing my grip, I stand back and cup his face; I want his full attention on me for this.

"Adam, you have to tell the police about this and see a doctor. You need to. They can't get away with this and you need this. You have to tell people. I'll be there all the way. I'll help you okay? Friends forever, remember? Okay, good, so let me help you with this and stand by you. Okay." By the end he's not the only one tearing up. God, this is so messed up.

At first I can see the reluctance in his eyes, he doesn't want to tell anyone but then I feel him nodding.

"Okay, I'll tell but only if you stay with me."

"Always."

Thank god, he's agreed. That's a relief but there's still a long road to walk down.

Adam has a lot of trauma and wounds that need healing, most of them not physical ones but emotional and psychological. There's a long road to recovery ahead for him and many problems that need addressing but I know he can make it through it and come out on top. He may never be able to put it all behind him and be as he was but I'll be damned if I let him fall back to where he was earlier tonight.

There's a lot we need to cover between ourselves to get our friendship as strong as it once was, which I will see done. Maybe if had I never let us drift apart then things never would have gotten this far. I will never know if that's true or not but I will make sure that nothing like that happens between us again. I will always be there for Adam and I will stand by him through all that's to come.

I just pray that it will be enough and that bringing those that hurt him to justice that Adam can heal and make a fresh beginning.

Right now we're balancing on the edge, one push too far will send him over the edge.

* * *

Okay right well that's all guys. Hope you liked it and there will be one more chapter of this story which will be a jump forwards in time showing the end of events and how Adam turns out.


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